In My Mouth

I have something in my mouth.;
A spoon,
Made from copper it is
Because silver is gone.
Gold was offered,
But got snatched up.
I was given platinum,
It got stolen,
Not 'cos of lack of care;
Cos of too much care.

I know of someone who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, yet she is the most burdened person I know. She has been brought up to feel guilty about the fact that she has so much and others have less. Hers is a case of sorrow in the midst of abundance. She is her own worst critic in the act of self-denial.